When That Dawn Will Come
by asinine
Summary: Was I dead?" Peter asked. “Of course...” Edmund replied, closing his eyes and remembering the dream the had driven him from his bed in the first place.


_"For it is the dawn that has come, as it has come for a thousand centuries, never failing. But when that dawn will come, of our emancipation, from the fear of bondage and the bondage of fear, why, that is a secret."  
- Cry, The Beloved Country _by Alan Patton

Edmund had been wandering around Cair Paravel for most of the night, musing over his siblings. The three of them were always in his dreams. Lately, though, his dreams had turn to nightmares, and lately Peter, Susan, and Lucy were always dead.

Edmund knew he was not alone, each of his siblings suffered from similar terrors. He was beginning to wonder how his siblings all dealt with the nightmares, and the terrible fear he knew came with them.

Susan, he was sure, stuck to logic. She probably laid in her bed and quietly chastised herself for falling into the reality of a dream. After all, she would have seen her siblings at dinner, and again right before bed, and _there was simply no way_ they could have gone off and died in battle while leaving her behind to slumber. In Susan's dreams, her siblings were never dead. Instead, they were always dying, and blood sputtered from their lips on to the grassy battlefield right outside their home. Edmund knew that simply being in her bed at Cair Paravel was a consolation for Susan. Surely then, she reasoned to herself in an attempt to fall back asleep, her brothers and sister were alive. They had to be, because she was still tucked away snugly in her bed.

Edmund knew his eldest sister well enough to know that she would not sleep after she had awoken from her dreams. On those nights Susan chose instead to simply lay awake and watch the shadows on the walls. Sometimes she would seek him out – he had nightmares too, and Edmund thought she found solace in knowing his were much, much worse.

Lucy, though... Edmund smiled. His youngest sister had only sought him out once. Other than that moment, when she had been bothered by a particularly unnerving dream, the Valiant Queen did not need him. She did not seem to be plagued as often. Lucy, she always had her faith, and it was enough to get her through even the hardest nights.

While her fears were no less real, and her nightmares surely no simpler than his, she had Aslan. They all did, he knew, but his younger sister's absolute trust in The Lion and willingness to share herself with Him completely was what got her through in the end. She would kneel at her bed and pray, whisper His mighty name, and find solace in the fact that while Aslan was not a tame lion, He was the kind of lion who loved her enough to make everything all right.

But there was more to it, at least for Lucy. Edmund had always felt he never gave her the true credit she deserved. His sister had always had a lions heart, even before Aslan, and her strength of will alone was enough to keep her from crumbling. The Great Lion had simply found the seed and watered it. Lucy was one of few people Edmund knew that could look at a hopeless situation and still press on. That trait, he felt, combined with her complete faith, carried her through her night time storms.

To Edmund, both of his sisters were somewhat predictable with how they dealt with their traumas. The youngest king knew what they needed in order to find comfort. His brother Peter, however, always managed to elude him – not in the sense that Edmund didn't know _what_ his brother needed, but in the sense that Edmund could never find Peter _when _he was needed. It left the younger king in a some what disgruntled mood as he began to search Cair Paravel for a third time.

"_There you are!__" _Edmund chastised, Peter finally in his sight. He was sitting alone in a small grove full of bushes just outside the West entrance. "I've been searching all over for you!"

A silence fell between them when Peter failed to respond, and Edmund grew irritated at having not been heard. "Pete…" he whispered. "Are you alright? Stop dozing and talk to me."

Edmund reached out and gave Peter's shoulder a jab.

"Oh," Peter blinked. "You're alive."

"Was I dead?" Edmund sighed. A knot formed in his stomach.

"Only a half hour ago." His brother replied and gently tapped the earth next to him. Edmund seated himself and Peter continued. "And very bloody. Lucy was beside you, but she wasn't covered in much blood at all – just from the wound of the arrow that killed her."

There was a pause.

"... And Susan?"

Peter made a face. "Let's not talk about Susan."

Edmund felt a pang of guilt, knowing he had asked the one question he should not have, and that his brother was hurting for it. Some deaths were worse than others and he knew those were the kinds of deaths Susan faced. They both fell silent, and Edmund distracted himself with watching the grove until Peter spoke.

"Was _I_ dead in this one?" he asked.

"Of course..." Edmund replied, closing his eyes and remembering the dream the had driven him from his bed in the first place. "You all were."

"Was it bloody?" questioned Peter.

"Not so much. You were turned to stone."

Peter sighed and took Edmund's hand, giving it a tight squeeze. "Still?"

Edmund nodded. "You're always stone in the end."

Peter shook his head.

"Do you think they'll ever stop?" he asked. "I'd like to have a good dream for once, one where you all lived."

"Me too." said Edmund. "But it may take awhile for that to happen."

With that Peter let out a sigh. He rose up on his feet and glanced around the grove. Dawn was quietly peeking over the horizon, basking the castle in an faint light. He turned to Edmund, a small smile on his face. "It'll be something too look forward to, then. It's been ages since I've had a good nights sleep. I suspect it's the same for Susan and Lucy, too."

Edmund nodded. "Yes. It's something too look forward to indeed."

* * *

**A/N: **More Pevensie goodness! Set during The Golden Age of Narnia, of course. Edmund centric (because I do indeed love my little Narnian angst-bucket), with a nice bushel of Peter-gush. Gush gush gush. Huzzah!

Also, if you have not read the book that I took the quote from, you are missing out on an amazing piece of literature. Find your nearest bookstore, head straight for the classics section, and buy it. It's worth the money.

One last thing, before this A/N becomes longer than the story itself... I'm not 100 satisfied with this story, but I really wanted to share it with everyone. So if you review, I'd love it if you gave me some constructive criticism as well. I do plan on going over and changing this in the future. I would love to hear your thoughts so I can take them in to account when I edit! There will be a better ending, eventually. I promise.


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